Incorrect Assumptions
by korikori
Summary: It's been assumed he'd be with France. It's been assumed I'd be with England. I think that nearly everyone's wrong...only, it's his job to tell you that. Not mine. America/Canada sort of


Well, this is the prize for MeowChan16's answer to the question on the last chapter of Canada's Life is Average! It's very, VERY late. But that's actually because my good computer had to be turned in, and as it turns out the crap computer doesn't work well with FFN, and I kinda LOST what I wrote...BUT YEAH HERE YOU GO. SORRY IT'S LATE!

*Sigh* I'm only saying this 'cuz I have to: But I don't own APH. CRUEL CRUEL WORLD.

* * *

They had always assumed I'd end up with France. To be fair, I'd always assumed that America would chase England forever, just like everyone else thought.

So when a self-styled "suave young gentleman" walked up and tapped my shoulder, only to politely ask for a dance, I was a bit shocked. That's an understatement. Who was this weirdo leading me onto the dance floor, and where the hell was Al? Had he perhaps been bound and gagged and left in a closet somewhere?

Then the look-a-like accidentally stepped on my foot, accidentally insulted my country, and managed to make what might be a rude gesture in some foreign language, on, of course, accident. At the same time. It had to be America.

He apologized, then continued our "dance". A waltz. I told him right then and there that I was not a girl. He said he didn't care. Stubborn ass.

"Anyway, you look more like a girl than I do!" I would have slapped him and walked off, but he just HAD to dip me, right then.

I looked up at him, and, although it's so cheesy and cliché that it should have its own encyclopedia entry, time froze. Just enough time for me to see his expression. It was if being here, being with me, dancing like this...it was as if nothing could make him happier.

Call me selfish, call me greedy - I wanted that look. I wanted him to wear it every day.

* * *

A week or so later, he showed up, totally unannounced. "Something wrong?"

He wouldn't meet my eyes at first. I finally coaxed him off the porch, with the tempting offer of a scary movie and homemade burgers. He can never resist that. Finally, when we were getting ready for bed, he caved. "Matt...I talked to France today."

I looked up. An uncommon, but not entirely unusual occurrence. "Oh?"

"Ah...well..."

"What's up, Al? I'm your-your best friend, for crying out loud. If you can't tell your hat, who can you tell?" That made him laugh, but it was almost hollow. Gallows humor, I suppose. I hoped that he didn't notice I couldn't bring myself to say brother.

He looked like a school child that had just been scolded. "It's nothing."

"Al-"

"It's nothing!" America ran for the door, before I could reach him. I sighed and grabbed my flashlight, as well as a pair of coats. The idiot had gone out into a temperature he was unprepared for, but far be it from me to let my br-a guest freeze.

* * *

I finally tracked him down. He was at a frozen-over pond that we sometimes played hockey at. When I dropped the coat on his shoulders, he didn't react beyond pulling it closer.

"Al. Either you come home, and tell me what the fuck is going on, or we have it out right here. Your choice." He looked up at me. That look in his eyes...if it was France's fault that it was there, that bastard would die. Forget that he'd raised me, forget that it was "expected" that he and I be "together" in the end.

"I'm sorry, Matt. I just...I wanted to ask him about you." If I hadn't been sitting, that would've floored me. "He seemed like the best choice. Then, he kinda figured out why I was asking an' everything...he told me I didn't have a chance." The hollow laugh again. I felt my soul clench. "I just...I just want to see you happy. Okay?"

I blinked. Then I grabbed some snow and smashed it in his hair. "Stupid!"

"Gah! Hey, the hell? I'm baring my soul here! Goddammit, don't you have a NICER way to reject me?"

"Idiot! Next time, next time, you could just freaking ASK ME. Gah! Americans!" I stormed off towards the house. America tried to sprint, but in this snow, he was more making friends with whatever lived in it.

"Wait! Does that mean I have a chance? MATT! GO ON AN AWESOME DATE WITH MEEEEE!"

"You sound like Prussia, idiot!"

"What? But I'm the origin of awesome!"

"Prussia's older than you! And that's South Korea's line!"

"Well, fuck them!" He paled. "WAIT I DIDN'T MEAN THAT LITERALLY! MATT!"

I shut the door on him. What the hell, he had a spare key anyway. Which is why I didn't freak out when I found him crashed on the couch, early in the morning. Yeah, we're just like that.

He had a happy smile on, like he always did when he had good dreams. I bent over carefully, and brushed my lips across his forehead. "You should've known, idiot...but then, you wouldn't be here if you had."


End file.
